


Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have (P!ATD)

by psiphifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apologies, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Cheating, Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Desperation, Dirty Talk, Draco Malfoy Has a Large Cock, Dysfunctional Family, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Fingerfucking, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Healing, Hermione can't orgasm, Inappropriate Behavior, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Lies, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have, Married Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Masturbation in Shower, Memory Magic, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, POV Hermione Granger, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Torture, Pensieves (Harry Potter), Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Rough Sex, Sexual Dysfunction, Shameless Smut, Smut, Song Lyrics, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Unintentional Bonding, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginismus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: Hermione Granger is 26 years old when her past comes to haunt her. Dancing in a Muggle club in London, a line of sweat dotting her hairline, she tries to release the constant tension in her body, to let go. Then, a song comes on amidst the flashing lights and writhing bodies. Her body freezes for a second, paralyzed by the magical chord it strikes in her mind.*Is it still me that makes you sweat?Am I who you think about in bed?When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?Well, then think of what you didAnd how I hope to God he was worth itWhen the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin*She wobbles off the dancefloor to an empty table. Sadistically sobered by the song’s words, Hermione tries to lock out the memories from her mind.The shock of platinum hair. Grey eyes like nearly new moons, the corona of silver barely visible around dilated black.*I've got more witA better kissA hotter touch a better fuckThan any boy you'll ever meetSweetie you had me*
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Panic! at the Disco and this song has always been so overtly sexy and forbidden in my opinion. One day, when I was listening to it, a Dramione idea popped into my head! Because I was already working on my now complete WIP (It's All Greek to Me) at the time, this has been slow to come all together. 
> 
> WARNINGS: See the tags, but there isn't any smut between Draco/Astoria, cheating is a heavy theme, and Draco, while redeemed, can be seen as a bit wayward in his motivations/tactics.
> 
> JK Rowling owns HP and Panic! owns the lyrics, I only combined them!

Hermione Granger is 26 years old when her past comes to haunt her. Dancing in a Muggle club in London, a line of sweat dotting her hairline, she tries to release the constant tension in her body, to let go. Then, a song comes on amidst the flashing lights and writhing bodies. Her body freezes for a second, paralyzed by the magical chord it strikes in her mind. 

_Is it still me that makes you sweat?  
_ _Am I who you think about in bed?  
_ _When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?  
_ _Well, then think of what you did  
_ _And how I hope to God he was worth it  
_ _When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin_

She wobbles off the dancefloor to an empty table. Sadistically sobered by the song’s words, Hermione tries to lock out the memories from her mind. 

The shock of platinum hair. Grey eyes like nearly new moons, the corona of silver barely visible around dilated black.

 _I've got more wit  
_ _A better kiss  
_ _A hotter touch a better fuck  
_ _Than any boy you'll ever meet  
_ _Sweetie you had me_

His firm, knowing touch sliding across her skin. She can almost feel it like a ghost caressing her. Hermione shivers in the heat of the club. The singer’s voice almost sounds like _his_. 

_Girl, I was it, look past the sweat  
_ _A better love deserving of  
_ _Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat  
_ _No, no, no, you know it will always just be me_

She dashes for the exit, her panic mounting, restricting her lungs, her head spinning as she tries to take deep breaths. Hermione didn’t tell anyone what had happened at Malfoy Manor after she was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, not even the Wizengamot at the Death Eater trials. 

_Let's get these teen hearts beating  
_ _Faster, faster_

Her instincts from the war are still ingrained as she rushes to a private alleyway. An otter patronus leaves her wand, which has been tucked into the thigh holster beneath her dress. A few breaths later, her heart slows, but her hands are still shaking. Hermione apparates to her flat blocks away in London. 

She needs to wash the club off her skin before she does anything else. Her shower scalds her. It's so hot, but it feels good to scrub her skin raw of sweat and the bodies from the club that had ground against her. Hermione doesn't care that her body looks flushed as she swipes the steam from the mirror.

 _So testosterone boys and harlequin girls  
_ _Will you dance to this beat  
_ _And hold a lover close?  
_ _So testosterone boys and harlequin girls  
_ _Will you dance to this beat  
_ _And hold a lover close?_

After re-dressing in a light blue, cotton dress, Hermione waits anxiously, wringing her hands. She wishes Crookshanks was still alive, so she could cuddle with him to soothe her nerves. This secret has been festering for too long. She’s been avoiding it and needs to confront it now.

Her main worry is that he will ignore her. That he too would rather keep it buried. She knows that he hadn’t let the secret affect his relationships. While she and Ron had broken up after she’d lied and said she slept with Krum before him, Malfoy married a witch younger than him and was probably trying to have the next heir to the Malfoy fortune. 

_So I guess we're back to us  
_ _Oh, cameraman, swing the focus  
_ _In case I lost my train of thought  
_ _Where was it that we last left off? (let's pick up, pick up)_

Tears of frustration threaten to fall as she stares at the lifeless fireplace. Malfoy had never cared about her; it was all a mistake. She’d thought herself into the imaginary world where he wasn’t a selfish prick. That was an illusion created by the war, by desperation, not understanding or feelings. Now, he had a new life, a new family, moving beyond the treacherous past.

> **_Hermione was barely coherent after the torture as Greyback dragged her limp body away. Her body still crackled with the magical electricity that flayed her every nerve from the_ ** **cruciatus curse** **_. Aftershocks wracked her body and she lost consciousness._ **
> 
> **_A tremor shook her awake and a soft swear startled her. Greyback was nowhere to be seen. Hermione noticed she was propped up on multiple pillows in a soft bed instead of lying in some ditch. Blinking, she turned her head to see Malfoy sitting at her side._ **
> 
> **_“Drink this, Granger,” he said gruffly._ **
> 
> **_She eyed him wearily, but another tremor had her re-evaluating. Opening her mouth, he poured in what tasted like a mixture of a calming draught and a sleeping potion. He watched her swallow._ **
> 
> **_“How--” Her voice was incredibly hoarse._ **
> 
> **_“Don’t speak yet, Granger. Your vocal cords could be damaged by screaming and the curse. Just rest for now.”_ **
> 
> **_She opened her mouth to defy his order, so he quickly said, “Fine, I’ll tell you, just don’t speak.” Hermione glared but waited for his explanation._ **
> 
> **_“I stunned Greyback and altered his memory so he thinks he mauled you. Your friends escaped with Dobby… To think my father thought the elf was useless. I brought you here to recover. No one knows, not even my mother. I’ll send you wherever you want once you’re better.”_ **
> 
> **_Opening her mouth again to ask ‘why,’ he shushed her. “Don’t ask that.”_ **
> 
> **_Their glares battled until another tremor, though not as bad as the others, ran through her. She saw the book in his hands after it subsided. Pointing at it and then her mouth, she hoped he’d understand what she wanted, that he’d comply._ **
> 
> **_With a nod, Malfoy opened the book and started reading to her about potions until her brain couldn’t understand what he was saying._ **

The floo erupts into green flames and Hermione gasps. Her stomach clenches in anticipation.


	2. Chapter 2

The floo erupts into green flames and Hermione gasps. Her stomach clenches in anticipation.

 _Oh, now I do recall  
_ _We just were getting to the part  
_ _Where the shock sets in  
_ _And the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick_

His blonde head appears first followed by the rest of his lanky body. She can’t read his expression since his mask is set in place as he stands on the hearth dusting his expensive pinstripe suit off. Hermione absently wonders why he’s wearing a suit at nearly midnight. 

“Late night working, Malfoy?” she asks conversationally as if speaking to him and seeing him in her home is a regular occurrence. It isn’t. They haven’t seen one another since the trials. 

He frowns at her, clearly annoyed that she called him here. “What do you want, Granger?”

She flushes as his gaze traces her form. “I thought it was obvious from my message.”

“I was in the middle of something. You wanted to talk, so let’s skip the pleasantries,” Malfoy smirks, his hands in his pockets. She stands now, as well, since it seems like he won’t sit down to talk.

“That night… I need to know if there was anything… if you felt anything… or was it just pity?”

His eyes narrowed to slits, face all straight lines and angles. Her heart beats loudly in her ears. Can he hear it?

“I know you’re married, you’re busy, you’ve probably forgotten about it. I just need this closure to move on,” she practically begs.

Malfoy’s lip curls. A sneer, almost. He’s still silent as if he doesn’t trust himself to say anything. She is raging inside, breaking apart at the seams. 

“Is this another way you’ve found to torture me now? Are you happy? You ruined all other men for me!” Hermione screams at him, tears rushing out like her words.

Words she now wishes she could take back. She didn’t mean to say them aloud, especially not to him. 

_I sure hope you didn't expect to get all of the attention  
_ _Let's not get selfish  
_ _Did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus?_

Malfoy doesn’t seem taken aback or surprised. He stares at her as if she’s some rune he’s trying to decipher. Her knees give out under her own emotional turmoil and the weight of his gaze.

Sinking back into the couch, she refuses to look at him. “If you weren’t going to talk, why did you come?” 

She swipes at her tears and focuses her eyes on the window. If he hadn’t responded after a few minutes, she’d think he’d left.

“Why now?” he murmurs.

 _Let's get these teen hearts beating  
_ _Faster, faster_

Hermione almost doesn’t want to respond. He doesn’t answer her questions, so why should she answer him? But now he’s talking, so she answers anyway, tired of fighting.

“A song I heard… I think it’s an American band.”

“And you thought of me because of it? After seven years.” 

She finally looks at him. The intensity of his eyes makes her skin burn. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry. Just go, Malfoy.” 

“No,” he growls. She narrows her eyes. “You’ve broken the dam, Granger. I can’t leave now.”

She hears the mixture of emotions in his wavering voice. His fists are shaking by his sides, knuckles as white as his hair. 

“Then, sit down and answer my questions,” Hermione demands. 

Begrudgingly, he stalks over to the chair near the window and sits down languidly but with a huff. Malfoy runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick. 

“I wanted to stop Bella… I didn’t want to stand there and just watch…” He leans over, his elbows on his thighs, hands steepled under his chin. “My mother… I couldn’t risk her torture being my punishment… At that point, I could resist…” It seems the dam was only cracked, words trickling out of his defenses.

His jaw ticks. “I couldn’t let Greyback have you… Potter and Weasley needed you… I couldn’t help them escape, but… I could save you.” The last words sound like a prayer.

Hermione swallows hard. “That doesn’t answer--” A flick of his sharp silver eyes silenced her.

“I knew the best way to help you recover… Mother had done it for me a few times,” he continues, every word formed haltingly as if his lips are fighting his brain. 

The memories surface in her mind again as if he’s triggering them. Malfoy had slithered into her mind seven years ago and it still holds the scars of the damage that had been healed.

> **_A vicious tremor took hold of her brain, her mind seizing at the power of it. And then, it felt like an icy hand entered her skull. The hand spread relief, coaxing the nerves back to sleep._ **
> 
> **_Her eyes fluttered open, vision blurred. Then, Malfoy’s concerned face came into focus, deep circles under his eyes and creases in his forehead. He almost looked like he was praying by her bedside. She passed out again as he sank back into his chair._ **

“I didn’t want to care,” Malfoy interrupts her flashback. “It made everything more complicated. I didn’t want to be jealous.” 

“Jealous?”

He grimaces at his admission. “You had loyal friends by your side. Weasley bellowed your name from the dungeons while you were being tortured. He loves you.”

Hermione takes a deep breath before correcting him. “He loves me like a best friend… but he couldn’t stand that someone else had touched me first.”

Malfoy blanches, as much as his porcelain skin can at least. He stands and starts pacing in front of her. Hermione starts sweating, his actions making her nervous.

“I didn’t tell him about you.”

He stops mid-step and looks at her in bewilderment. She nearly laughs at the comical way his hair falls into his widened eyes. Malfoy straightens up, hands clasped behind his back.

“I see… What did you tell Weasley?”

“I lied and said it was Viktor Krum,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. 

He nods, smirking. “Can you only imagine if he knew it was me?” 

“You’re infuriating!” She stands so he can’t smirk down at her as much from his height.

“I’m sure it’s infuriating that I’ve ruined all other men for you,” he taunts. 

She raises her hand to slap him, but he catches her wrist. Damn his seeker reflexes!

 _So testosterone boys and harlequin girls  
_ _Will you dance to this beat  
_ _And hold a lover close?_

Hermione trembles from how much she wants to fight against the arousal stirring in her from his touch. His grip tightens around her wrist. Her throat constricts at seeing the gunmetal grey of his wedding ring on the hand that’s holding her. 

“So this is how it’s going to be? You’ll hold that over me for the rest of my life? I thought maybe you’d changed, but I guess I was wrong.” She tries to shake off his grip, but now she’s starting to lose feeling in her hand. 

“Malfoy!” she cries. He loosens his grip, but grabs her other hand and brings them together behind her back. As she struggles, her taut nipples brush against his lapels and even through the layer of fabric she hisses at the contact. 

His nose brushes against hers, warm breath rushing along her jaw. “What did you think was going to happen, Granger? Did you think I’d confess my long-harbored love for you since that night? That I would promise to leave my wife to be with you? Or did you just want me to fuck you again?”

Hermione can’t hold in the whimper. He chuckles darkly, his lips nearly touching hers. She can move to meet them, but she won’t, even though she feels desperate for more.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione can’t hold in the whimper. He chuckles darkly, his lips nearly touching hers. She can move to meet them, but she won’t, even though she feels desperate for more.

> **_“You should probably bathe before I send you to your friends. I’ve called a house elf to help you.”_ **
> 
> **_Hermione felt almost back to normal. There was a lingering tingle in the back of her mind, like a tiny thread of magic that hadn’t been there before Malfoy had stopped her seizure. It was nagging and comforting at the same time. Kind of like Malfoy himself had been over the past day._ **
> 
> **_She was surprised that no one else in the manor had discovered her; however, it seemed that the Malfoy heir was as much of a prisoner as she was. He would leave sometimes, but not for more than an hour._ **
> 
> **_Nodding slowly, in a slight daze, she started to climb out of bed. Her knees gave out, but she didn’t hit the ground. Malfoy had caught her by the waist and then slid his other arm under her knees to carry her to the bathtub. His embrace was warm and she almost forgot who he was -- the boy who’d taunted her and wished her dead. Was he still that cruel boy after all this?_ **
> 
> **_A house elf appeared to take over as he set her on the edge of the tub. Elf magic took care of her clothes in a second and she was naked, slipping carefully into the bath. It was the perfect temperature and lavender-scented._ **
> 
> **_“Missy needs helps?” the elf asked._ **
> 
> **_She shook her head. “I’ll be fine to wash. I’ll call if I need help getting out.” The house elf blinked and disappeared before Hermione could ask her name._ **
> 
> **_Washing her hair felt glorious even though she knew it would take magic to untangle it afterwards. She soaked for a little bit and must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes she felt someone playing with her hair._ **
> 
> **_“Now I understand how you find your hair difficult to manage.” She sat up, startled by Malfoy’s voice behind her._ **
> 
> **_The bathwater was hazy enough that he couldn’t see her nakedness fully, but it didn’t make her any more comfortable to find him sitting in a chair by the tub with a comb in his hands. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and he noticed, cheeks reddening. He grabbed a towel and handed it to her._ **
> 
> **_Once he’d turned around, she stood and wrapped the softest towel she’d ever felt around her body. She tried to step out onto the marble gracefully, but her second foot slid and she collided with Malfoy. Hermione ended up dripping wet on his lap. They both didn’t know what to do for a second._ **
> 
> **_“I didn’t know you were so clumsy, Granger,” he quipped, lifting her with more ease than she expected. Malfoy carried her back to the bed._ **
> 
> **_“Try getting tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange,” she shot back bitterly._ **
> 
> **_“Been there, done that.” She gaped at him. His face was a blank mask._ **
> 
> **_“I’m sorry…” She didn’t know what else to say after that except, “Can you give me the comb?”_ **
> 
> **_He didn’t move. “Do you ever let anyone do things for you?”_ **
> 
> **_“Of course.”_ **
> 
> **_“Let me do this for you. The comb is enchanted. If it works, I’ll give it to you to keep,” he bargained._ **
> 
> **_She considered it for a moment. “Fine,” Hermione said in a release of breath._ **
> 
> **_The bed dipped under his weight behind her. The first tug made her eyes and scalp burn. “Start at the ends, Malfoy,” she reprimanded._ **
> 
> **_He complied and the comb seemed to do what it was enchanted for. It still took him about twenty minutes to detangle her entire head. His warm breath on her neck made her shiver and her nipples pucker against the towel. Unexpectedly, she felt him press a kiss to her bare shoulder._ **
> 
> **_Hermione whipped her head around. His pupils were blown wide, a thin silver lining around the bottomless black orbs. He licked his lips and she noticed at how full they were._ **
> 
> **_“What are you doing?” she whispered._ **
> 
> **_“I wish I could make it up to you… everything I did and didn’t do… I-I don’t know how else…” he stumbled over his words._ **
> 
> **_Draco Malfoy was always confident. Except now and the vulnerability she’d seen in him sixth year… There was a side of him she’d never seen. Perhaps no one else had._ **
> 
> **_“If I said no would you still send me back to my friends?” He looked taken aback._ **
> 
> **_“Yes, I would.”_ **
> 
> **_“Why?”_ **
> 
> **_“I need to do the right thing, Hermione.”_ **
> 
> **_She gaped like a fish at his use of her first name that had never been touched by his lips and tongue until that moment. It made her smile. It made her feel like they could win this war. If Draco Malfoy could save her, then Harry could defeat Voldemort._ **
> 
> **_“Thank you, Draco.” He blinked in disbelief and then his eyes fluttered shut as she hesitantly kissed him._ **
> 
> **_Draco took control of the kiss as soon as he sensed she wasn’t sure. Her lips felt swollen as he sucked at them expertly. His tongue flickered over her lips to distract her from his hand fisting and tugging her hair down. As she gasped, he took the opportunity to plunder her mouth with his tongue, finding hers. She moaned at the sensation of their tongues tangoing, never too much and never enough._ **
> 
> **_When he paused to let her breathe, he continued to nip and kiss down her throat. Draco sucked on her pulse point and she arched into him, her core pulsing with need. No boy had ever incited such desire in her until she snogged Draco Malfoy. He clearly had experience, but there was something both elicit and comforting about it being him. She couldn’t ruin anything -- not a friendship or a future romantic relationship -- because there wouldn’t be any potential for that. This was just a transaction of guilt and gratitude._ **
> 
> **_“Fuck,” he muttered, sucking on her earlobe. Her hand had automatically gone to tangle in his fine, blonde locks._ **
> 
> **_Draco returned to kissing her as he grabbed her hands, put them above her head, and lowered her back to the mattress. He straddled her, his weight pressing into her hips. She gazed up at him when he pulled away._ **
> 
> **_“Are you sure? Because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I’ve tasted you.”_ **
> 
> **_“Yes, Draco.”_ **
> 
> **_“Don’t worry, you’ll be saying that over and over again,” he purred into her ear as he descended to her collarbone. Licking along her clavicle, her deep breathing pushed her towel-covered breasts towards him._ **
> 
> **_She needed more friction everywhere, but especially her clit. Hermione had touched herself numerous times and knew what she liked. This was delicious torture, being at his mercy. He traced her cleavage with his tongue before pulling back to remove her towel._ **
> 
> **_Anxiety and anticipation twisted in her, battling for dominance. Once she was completely exposed, Hermione saw his eyes darken and he licked his lips. He shifted his hips down and she felt how hard he was against her thigh. She didn’t have long to think about that when he licked her areola and blew air over her nipple._ **
> 
> **_“Fuuuck!” she cried as he captured and suckled the erect bud._ **
> 
> **_He was still holding her hands above her head, so all she could do was arch into him. Giving the other breast similar treatment, he continued down to where she’d been hit by Dolohov’s curse, but he wouldn’t know since there wasn’t any outward scarring. His tongue dipped into her navel before avoiding the patch of curls and kissing her hip bone instead._ **
> 
> **_Draco licked along the crease between her hip and leg and nipped sharply at her inner thigh. She felt more than heard him groan against her core, his nose nuzzling her curls as he inhaled the scent of her sex. Hermione lifted her hips toward him. She barely realized he’d let go of her hands to spread her open for him._ **
> 
> **_“You smell sweet and tangy… perfect.” She thought she’d explode once he licked her hidden nub._ **
> 
> **_He eased a long finger inside of her, reaching past where her own could. His lips wrapped around her clit and sucked then nibbled. Hermione sobbed her release as his finger curled inside her. Her first partner-induced orgasm was with Draco Malfoy and it was incomparable._ **
> 
> **_When she opened her eyes, she saw him with his finger in his mouth savoring her flavor. Hermione had never seen anything sexier. He’d taken his shirt off while she was recovering, silvery scars tracing a violent history across his abdomen. A sprinkling of blonde hair led her eyes to his belt buckle._ **
> 
> **_“No one’s ever tasted you, have they, Hermione?” he asked hoarsely, eyes inhumanly dilated._ **
> 
> **_She shook her head dumbly; her intense orgasm had struck her mute. He tugged her chin up to his so he could give her a taste. It wasn’t unpleasant, a bit earthy, salty, heady. Hermione heard the clink of his buckle as he pulled away, leaving her breathless._ **
> 
> **_He stood to take his trousers and pants off and Hermione leaned up on her elbows. She’d seen her fair share of penises -- her best friends were boys -- but she’d never seen one up close let alone touched one. Draco Malfoy’s was perhaps the longest one she’d seen while erect. It was the same shade of pink as his flushed cheeks after a quidditch match -- not that she’d really noticed -- and it was nestled in a neat base of dark blonde curls. The tip was leaking pearly fluid as he stroked it._ **
> 
> **_She unconsciously licked her lips. He moaned, deep and sultry as he kept stroking and watching her from under his lashes. Malfoy lithely climbed over her like a jungle cat on the prowl. Hermione gasped when she felt the slick tip of him nudge her engorged clit._ **
> 
> **_“Oh Granger, you don’t know how I’d love to put that mouth to better use, but now’s not the time for that,” Malfoy growled into her ear._ **
> 
> **_She shuddered. Realistically, Hermione knew she could do this: she was wet enough, definitely turned on, and he seemed experienced enough to not simply impale her in one thrust. It might be uncomfortable, but she would live through it. In fact, Hermione recognized that she truly wanted this._ **
> 
> **_“Fuck me, Malfoy,” she urged._ **
> 
> **_He chuckled. “I thought it was Draco now?”_ **
> 
> **_“Draco…” He smirked and she whimpered as he dragged the tip of his cock through her dripping folds, lining himself up at her seam. She took a deep breath to prepare herself, but it didn’t come._ **
> 
> **_Hermione realized she’d closed her eyes and now he had a wand in his hand. She recognized the contraceptive charm that Madam Pomfrey had taught the girls in fourth year. Mentally, she cursed herself for forgetting. While she hadn’t bled in months while they’d been on the run due to the scarcity of food, it was better to be safe than impregnated with the next Malfoy heir._ **
> 
> **_“Thank you,” she whispered to him. He grinned before tossing his wand aside._ **
> 
> **_His cock felt enormous as it started to enter her, a slight burn at the intrusion. Hermione gritted her teeth, trying to stay calm and open for him. She clenched the sheets in her fists as he forged ahead._ **
> 
> **_“You’re so fucking tight. Almost like a…” His head swung up to meet her eyes. Her teeth were sunk into her lip. He stilled, half inside her core._ **
> 
> **_“Don’t stop,” she panted, challenging him. Malfoy looked scared, like what he was doing was now wrong because he was her first. Like he didn’t deserve to be there._ **
> 
> **_He growled and pushed in slowly until she was positively stuffed with his cock. She felt like she would overflow at any moment, the pressure so great. And then Hermione realized it was another orgasm building, her muscles fluttering around him._ **
> 
> **_“Her-mi-o-nee,” he grunted out, his expression was tortured._ **
> 
> **_Malfoy was grinding his hips into her slightly, allowing for her body to adjust to him being inside her. She rolled her hips tentatively and couldn’t help but cry out at the spot that his tip pressed against. He lifted her thigh, hooking it over his elbow, and changed the angle._ **
> 
> **_Hermione arched into him as she saw galaxies form behind her eyes like a million spells being cast at once. A second later, she was soaring over her peak, her pussy clamping down on his hard length as if she never wanted him to leave the confines of her body. Her moans barely registered in her own mind._ **
> 
> **_After what felt like hours, she re-entered her boneless body, in which he was still hard inside. He was panting like an animal and nuzzled her breasts, pleasure coursing through her sated limbs._ **
> 
> **_“Can you take more?” he asked, lips brushing the inside of her breast. His sweat-soaked hair cooled her fiery skin._ **
> 
> **_She wasn’t sure… It didn’t hurt to have him there, at least. And if that orgasm happened again… her core fluttered around him and he gasped._ **
> 
> **_“Yes!’ Hermione breathed._ **
> 
> **_Draco peeled himself from her chest and sat up on his knees. “Do you know how fucking fantastic you feel around me? Squeezing me to death?”_ **
> 
> **_He began thrusting hard into her, chasing his own release._ **

_Let's get these teen hearts beating  
_ _Faster, faster_


	4. Chapter 4

_Let's get these teen hearts beating  
_ _Faster, faster_

“It was a forgiveness fuck, wasn’t that what you’d said. And what would this be now, Malfoy? If you fucked me again? A pity fuck? What about your wife? What about the Malfoy legacy?” she hisses at him, pulling away.

He grabs her chin roughly, enough to bruise. “You needn’t worry about that, Granger. I have an heir on the way,” he snarls. “Besides, why do you care? It’s practically a pureblood right of passage to have a mistress.”

She uses a wandless nonverbal spell to repel him. Hermione watches him fall onto the hearth. 

“ _ Incarcerous _ .”

He smirks at her as the ropes tie his arms behind his back. “Kinky, Granger! You must have had some interesting lovers since me.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Oh wait, silly me, I forgot that I’d ruined all other men for you,” he mocks.

Malfoy winces as she magically tightens his bindings. “If you even entertain the idea that I would agree to be your mistress, you’re more fucked up than I thought,” she says coldly. 

“What do you want then?” 

“Did you feel anything between us when we, as you so eloquently put it, fucked?”

Hermione sees his face wipe clean as if all he has to do to put up his Occlumency walls is say “tabula rasa.” She sighs. She’ll never get anywhere with him now that his shields are up again.

“Do you know how long it took for me to bury that memory? Much longer than it took for you to fish it out,” he says in a voice reminiscent of his godfather, Snape. 

It had to mean something to him, then, she thinks. “Why did you do it?”

She can tell he’s grinding his teeth from the way his jaw muscle jumps. He flashes his straight, white teeth gritted together in an effort to keep the memory at bay and the words from spilling out. His vocal cords strain before he starts speaking as if he is under veritaserum.

“Whenever I think of you, all I can hear is your screams and then your moans, mingled together in a horrendous, haunting chorus. You’ve plagued me for years! Can you imagine feeling aroused, horrified, and guilty at the same time? I can’t forgive myself for what happened to you… And on top of that you’re blaming me for your lack of love life? I won’t ever wipe my conscience clean! Do you realize that? Just because you can’t get your rocks off with someone else you’re complaining?” His chest heaves with exertion as he bellows at her, spittle flying.

Hermione sinks back into the sofa, processing (and blushing at) what he’s saying. She acknowledges that he’s right. Despite all she wants to argue, he has a right to complain and state his side of things. Despite what he’s saying, Hermione feels relieved to not have been the only one affected by that night.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about taking my virginity… I gave it to you, I gave you permission to comfort me in the only way you knew how. But I want to know why you wanted to sleep with me. There must have been some part of you that cared for me…” 

Malfoy looks hounded, hunted by her questions. She has rephrased and repeated it enough. He can’t avoid her much longer without leaving and even then… Hermione has kept silent for some many years that now is the time for answers.

“You knew I wanted you. Why else would I have combed your ridiculous hair?” he snarls. “You were fragile, approachable after all you went through. It was my only chance to claim something good for myself. It was selfish. Yes, I did care, but we haven’t spoken since then, so I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me. You saved me from Azkaban in return, which I’m grateful for, so our debts are paid. We’re even, Granger.”

His voice sounds weary, no bite, just solidifying their relationship or rather lack of one. 

“So you feel nothing now?” Hermione clarifies.

“That’s a loaded question. How do  _ you _ feel?” 

She takes a shaky breath. “I feel desperate. I’ve been to medi-witches, Muggle gynecologists, mind healers. I haven’t been able to orgasm with anyone else… The magical healers think it could be a side effect of you stopping the seizures from the curse, the muggle doctors say it could be a psychological issue similar to vaginismus--”

Malfoy covers her mouth with his, rendering her speechless, stopping her swotty blabbering. Hermione doesn't even register that he's broken through the magical bindings. He presses her into the couch cushions, his lips feasting on hers. One of his hands is tangled in her hair, the other sliding up her thigh. She feels like she’ll combust at his touch after nearly eight years.

He lifts her to lie lengthwise on the couch, his knee wedging between her thighs. She can’t let him do this, though. This isn’t what she wanted when she sent him a message, right? The part of her desperate for release knows this is what she wanted, what she’s craved for years. The rational side knows this is wrong.

Hermione tries to shove him off her, but he doesn’t relent, so she bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. He pulls away, anger in his steely eyes.

“What the fuck, Granger?” he rasps, touching his lip gingerly. Wandlessly and wordlessly, Hermione heals his wound.

They sit facing each other on the couch. She shudders with how badly she needs him. 

“Your wife, Malfoy. What about Astoria, who you just told me is pregnant?”

He covers his face with his hands. “She was pretty, young, and intelligent. And my parents didn’t approve, which I didn’t care about, but I didn’t want a pureblood princess. It was a bonus that she was a pureblood in my parents’ eyes, but I didn’t care and neither did she. She wanted to make a life with me, so we did… My mother insisted we have a baby, an heir, before her health worsened further. 

"We tried for years, but Astoria is cursed, a Greengrass family inheritance, and it’s been hard for her to keep getting pregnant and losing it... but this one has progressed enough that the doctors say she should be in the clear.”

He looks at her again, eyes sunken, but his face is sharp. “Don’t you understand, Granger? You were my one selfish thing. I’ve done everything for my family, to save them, to make them happy and proud. Except our night together. I can’t forget you, no matter how hard I try, how deep I bury those memories…”

“Thank you for telling me all this. Sorry for biting you, but I knew you wouldn’t stop unless I hurt you,” she explains, wringing her hands.

He takes one of her hands, smoothing his thumb across her knuckles. “Do you want me, now, though?”

She doesn’t trust herself not to beg, so she nods. “Do you want _ me  _ still?”

Instead of answering, Malfoy guides her hand to his crotch where the outline of his erection is pressing hard against the seam of his trousers, fighting to get to her skin. She makes an unintelligible noise in her throat, her body releasing more lubrication at the sign of his arousal. He pulls her into his lap, hands gripping her hips tightly as she straddles him. 

His lips suck at the spot below her ear, bruising her, leaving his mark. She grinds her hips into his hardness and he moans into the soft skin of her throat. Her nails are digging into his jacket over his shoulders.

“You know why I couldn’t forget you?” he murmurs into her cleavage. She feels his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her dress, fingering the lace of her knickers.

“Hmmm?”

“Because,” Malfoy drawls before pressing a finger deep into her core. Her eyes roll back as she moans; it’s a thrill that her body finally accepts something other than her own fingers. “You have the most perfect pussy I’ve ever felt. Yours was made for me, as if I’d forged it with my cock.” 

He thrusts a second finger into her and she was so close… and his thumb swipes her clit twice to push her over the edge. Her pussy greedily pulls his hand deeper. 

She barely hears him as he whispers against her skin, “I couldn’t help comparing my wife’s cunt to yours.”

Hermione feels a wave of relaxation wash over her as her orgasm grips her and she coats his hand with her expense. Her first orgasm in nearly a decade. Her mind is filled with cotton, her body weighed down as if buried in wet sand. 

She’s still in his lap, his fingers reluctantly released by her body’s grip. The mention of his wife echoes in her head; she pulls away slightly. “What does this mean, Draco? Does this make me your mistress or just a side fuck?”

He sighs and carefully sets her on the sofa. She eyes his untouched erection still tenting his trousers. Malfoy doesn’t have time to respond before a popping sound echoes in the stretching silence.

“Master?” a high, squeaky voice calls as a house elf materializes in front of them. The elf is wearing a bright yellow frock and a hat with daisy appliques. She gazes around the room in wonder, not sure where she’s finding her master.

Malfoy drags a hand through his already disheveled blonde hair. “Yes, Dinky?” 

“Mistress is sending me to fetch you. She is saying you are late and she is not wanting to be waiting any longer for you to sleep. She is wanting to see you before she and baby is sleeping.” The elf babbles sheepishly, clearly trying to relay the words Astoria Malfoy told her.

“Please tell Astoria that I’ll be home momentarily. I just need to finish up some paperwork.” Dinky curtseys and, to Hermione’s surprise, winks at her Master.

The elf blinks out of existence. “Don’t worry, Dinky is discreet. She won’t tell Astoria she found me here instead of my office.” Hermione opens her mouth, but silver eyes slice through her as he adds, “No, she’s never found me in a situation like this, but I can trust her discretion and loyalty. I treat her well, as you can tell.”

Hermione can only nod, her mind still processing what has happened in the last five minutes. She picks those minutes apart:

  1. He kissed her passionately and she bit him, hard.
  2. He showed her that he still wanted her by wanting her to touch his turgid cock.
  3. He teased her skin and finger-fucked her.
  4. She had her first orgasm since he’d taken her virginity as a teenager.
  5. He’s been called away by his pregnant wife.



“I can’t stop you from overanalyzing this, Granger,” he drawled, now standing with floo powder in his left hand. She can see his right hand, the hand that hand fucked her into oblivion still glistening with her cum. “But I will be back in an hour. Leave your floo open.”

She stares as he calls out “Château de Malfoy” and disappears. He doesn’t live at the Manor anymore. Would he really be back later? It’s nearly one in the morning now.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione tries to distract herself by reading, her mind whirring, but every cell, every muscle in her body feels like pudding. The text swims past her eyes, no words making it through to her brain. Not fifteen minutes later, she hears a tapping at her window.

She recognizes Malfoy’s Eurasian Eagle Owl, its large orange eyes glaring at her until she lets it in. There’s a tiny vial attached to its leg without a note. A pearlescent memory gleams within the glass. Summoning her pensieve, her hand shakes as she removes the stopper and pours the memory into the basin. Hermione takes a deep breath as she looks into the pensieve to see what materializes.

 _Her jaw drops as she’s surrounded by steam from a hot shower._ _Through the steam, a beautifully naked Draco Malfoy takes shape, his porcelain skin reddened by the heat of the water. She tries not to drool at the sculpted muscles defining his sinewy form. One of his hands is braced on the shower wall as the water races down his slightly hunched form, his back to her. His muscular backside is moving, arse cheeks clenching every so often. His soft moans echo around the shower stall._

_Curiously, Hermione moves closer to him to see what he’s doing, what Malfoy wants her to see. His left hand is furiously wanking his nearly purple cock as he then leans back against the wall to steady himself. He shoves his right hand into his mouth, the two fingers that had pleasured her, that she’d come all over. His eyes roll back at the taste of her, his other hand tugging painfully at his large cock. The muscles in his neck bulge as his head falls back to rest on the wall._

_Her own knees weaken with arousal as his fingers leave his mouth and he whimpers in a tortured tone, “Her-mi-o-neee.” His cum splashes at her feet in his memory. He slides down the wall in his own self-induced bliss._

_“I’m coming back for you, Granger,” Malfoy says huskily to himself._

As the memory ends with him sitting spent on the tiled floor of his shower, Hermione wants to be upset at him. She still doesn’t understand what he wants from her now that they’ve… reconnected. Hermione doesn’t want to be a homewrecker. And yet, she set herself up for this possibility. She told him she didn’t want to be his mistress, but what did she want?

Hermione had told herself that she wanted closure. That if he’d just told her that he hadn’t cared, then she’d been mad, surely, but that would have been it. Yet, now, he’s sending her memories of him wanking to the thought and taste of her, most likely from when he got home to shower and then tuck his wife into bed. 

She shouldn’t want him to come back. Hermione knows she should close her floo and go to bed. With her own cum drying between her thighs, she wonders if he’ll fuck her when he returns. Witnessing his shower wank, desire starts to pool low into her belly. She wants him no matter the implications. 

_Is it still me that makes you sweat?  
_ _Am I who you think about in bed?  
_ _When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?_

As a distraction from touching herself, Hermione starts cleaning her flat. No satisfaction will come of touching herself, she knows. She sweeps and mops the floors, dusts all the bookcases, wipes down her kitchen. Cleaning should exhaust her, but her lust remains in full force. She’s panting after she puts all her supplies away and she hears the floo activate.

 _Well, then think of what you did  
_ _And how I hope to God he was worth it  
_ _When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin_

It’s half past one in the morning. A thrill runs through her as heavy footsteps enter her flat. He finds her in the kitchen now dressed in an expensive velvet robe with the Malfoy crest on the breast pocket, silk pajama pants and leather slippers. His silver eyes blaze into her as she leans against a counter unaware that she’s still wearing the yellow rubber gloves she’d used to clean.

“Granger,” he growls. “You’re a witch. You shouldn’t clean the muggle way.”

Flushing in embarrassment at being caught wearing the ridiculous gloves, she hastens to throw them into the cabinet under the sink and bends over to do so. Warm hands on her hips keep her folded at the waist, his breath brushing her neck. Something hard wedges between her arse cheeks as his hands pull her hips back into him. 

“Did you watch what I sent you?” he breathes deeply into her ear.

“Yes,” she manages to squeak, her hips rolling back into his. Hermione can feel her arousal dripping down her thigh. 

He hums in approval, straightening her against his chest so she can feel the vibration in her spine. One of his hands trails up to her side to lightly cup her breast in his palm. She hasn’t been wearing a bra since he left and her nipple is pebbled against the fabric of her cotton dress. He doesn’t touch her the way she wants, choosing to tease her instead.

“Then, you know how badly I want to feel you wrapped around my cock again. You know just the taste of you makes me cum.”

She moans at his words and for him to put them into action. And yet, her mind isn’t totally in agreement.

“W-what,” Hermione’s breath hitches as he starts to nibble at the muscle connecting her shoulder and neck. “About your… wife.”

She cries out in surprise as her hips hit the edge of the counter, the weight of his body trapping her there. His erection digs insistently into her arse and the hand not supporting her breast reaches for her throat. He grips the column of muscle lightly but enough to warn her that he’s in control. Her clit throbs at the idea of being totally at the mercy of his desire.

“I told you… none of that was for me. That was for the Malfoy legacy, my family, not for my pleasure. _You_ are my guilty pleasure. As I ruined you for all other men, you ruined me for all other women. I can’t get hard without thinking of you, thinking of how you taste, those little moans you make, the way your pussy fits me like a glove and wrings every last drop of my cum.”

He nudges her thighs apart and she can’t help but let him. Not just because he has the power, but because she wants him to take control. She feels him pull at her underwear and tears them; the lace flutters to their feet. She feels him disrobe and drop his pajamas to the floor. 

“Fuck... please!” she begs as the head of his cock slides through her folds.

“Oh, Hermione… Has my memory made you positively soaking?” he murmurs into her neck. 

Hermione can’t help but urge him. “Malfoy!”

“Darling,” he warns and makes her shudder. “Call me Draco again when I fuck you.”

And he slowly parts her swollen pussy lips and slides gently into her channel. Her body welcomes him possessively. Hermione can barely think and she repeats his given name with every ragged breath.

 _I've got more wit  
_ _A better kiss  
_ A hotter touch a better fuck  
 _Than any boy you'll ever meet  
_ Sweetie you had me

Her toes nearly leave the ground when he starts thrusting into her, pulling out to the tip and diving deep within her slippery cunt. All she can hear is the rush of her heartbeat and the squelch of her wetness every time he takes her. The rhythmic slapping of his balls against her where her thighs meet her arse makes her clench around him.

“Oh fuuuck, Hermione. Are you going to come all over my cock?” She hurls over the cliff of her second orgasm that night as he strums one of her nipples. Her head lawls back on his shoulder and she’s barely aware of his shallow thrusts as he coaxes her through the third orgasm of her life. 

Hermione is still spasming around his hard cock and the way her clit is pressed into the counter’s edge is making her mind go fuzzy. She feels that knot in her core tensing again.

“I’m so glad I wanked before this, I just want to keep making you cum until you can’t take it anymore,” he babbles, voice husky. “Your pussy is mine and only mine. Say it, Hermione. Say it’s mine.”

“Yours. It’s only yours… Please, Draco!” she cries, so close to another precipice. He pinches both of her nipples and slams into her, hitting her cervix.

Hermione shrieks as pleasure strikes her like lightning. Her toes curl and her cream coats his cock. She feels unconsciousness tearing at her, vision fading. Vaguely, she feels the sensation of being carried. 

She isn’t sure how long later, but she wakes up on her side in her bed, naked and flush against Draco Malfoy. Hermione tenses and realizes that he’s still rock hard and buried deep within her. A groan escapes her lips, the desire starting to pool again. 

Her leg is draped over his hips as Draco allows her to come back to reality. He’s stroking her curls that he let loose from her bun. The only lover she’s ever had came back, giving her what her body craves. 

“You’re like the lock to my key, Hermione,” he whispers into her collarbone. “I’m the only key you’ll open for, you’re the only lock I’ll ever fit inside, even if it’s only in my mind.”

Hermione gasps, eyes wide. He examines her, alarmed and confused. As she moves to sit up, he allows her to, but only enough to fully straddle him, his cock fully seated within her at this angle. She whines, feeling so complete, so whole with him deep inside her.

“One of the healers…” she pants as her hips move of their own accord, grinding her pelvis down into his. “Said something about our magic... “ Draco shifts under her and makes her gasp. “being intertwined and our signatures responding.... to one another… like a lock and key.”

Pleasure burns her from the inside out as the combination of her downward movements and his upward thrusts sets her nerves aflame. The inhuman cry can’t be hers, she thinks as she lets the fire consume her. Her pussy gushes over him, a tidal wave. Distantly, she feels Draco’s hands forcing her hips to move again as she collapses, his girth still insistent and buried within her. 

Even though he’s set a brisk pace, Hermione sighs as if he’s giving her inner muscles a massage. It’s a low humming pleasure, nothing orgasmic, it just simply feels good. He seems to agree as he pants into her ear.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, love. I can’t bring myself to let go yet. I don’t want to stop fucking you; it’s too bloody good.” She hums in agreement, her muscles unable to resolidify. 

Her heavy eyes blink in protest as he lifts her off him. A rush of lust bolts through her as she watches a stream of her cum spill out of her and over his cock and abdomen. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans as he sees the same thing. His long cock, throbbing and red, glistens with her spend. Draco strokes it once as he gets to his knees, his eyes dark with desire.

She gasps as he grabs her by the hips so his wet cock slaps her arse. Hermione collapses onto her forearms as he slides into her from behind. This is an entirely new angle for her and at first, it’s too much, he’s too big, too long, stabbing her innards. And then, he lifts her hips a little higher and it makes her toes curl, back arch, and a long mewl depart from her lips.

“As much as I loved you riding me,” he drawls, pulling all the way out and thrusting all the way in quickly. “I just want to pound you into the mattress, see that lush arse in the air as my cock disappears into your perfect cunt.”

Her muscles start to squeeze him and her arse thrusts back to meet his hips. “That’s it, love. Take my cock. I want to hear you scream my name when you cum.”

Her fingers claw at the sheets as she rocks her hips back in time with his endless pounding. Suddenly, the simmer in her core is boiling over, and she vaguely realizes his thumb is pressing into her clit.

“Dracoooooooo!” she cries, the force of her orgasm bringing her to tears, and he massages her way through it with deep, slow rolls of his hips. 

His chest is pressed into her back, sweat sticking and slicking their skin. She’s barely in any state to complain when he pulls out of her again. Rivulets of her juices run down her thighs as she lies on her stomach. And yet, she’s scooped up gently and turned on her back, soft hands brushing from her calves to her inner thighs.

Hermione looks at Draco with glassy eyes, which widen as he’s still hard against his sculpted stomach. He’s not done with her yet. And frankly, she isn’t either. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione looks at Draco with glassy eyes, which widen as he’s still hard against his sculpted stomach. He’s not done with her yet. And frankly, she isn’t either. 

To her surprise, Draco crawls over her on all fours, hands scooping under her head, and brings their lips together. She’s too tired to fight his tongue as it tastes her, flicking at hers and her teeth. Hermione lets him control the kiss, lets him do what pleases him even as he nips to her bottom lip have her groaning.

She can feel his erection heavy against her hip. His hands smooth over her shoulders and under her breasts. Her breath catches as his thumbs brush over her nipples and she bows her back so they push further into his large hands.

“These have gotten bigger,” he remarks quietly and then kisses the skin in the center of her chest. 

His slow caresses are torturous after the fierce fucking they just performed. Her orgasms have left her pliant and yet, to her chagrin, no less needy. She opens her legs so his pelvis is cradled by hers, his hardness sliding down. 

Draco smirks at her, but it’s not the taunting smirk he’d always given her at school. It’s his look of approval. He’s pleased that she still wants him. 

His head buries itself into her neck where her curls are running wild against her sweaty skin. This movement causes his cock to slip between her legs. One of his hands wraps her thigh around his hip before ensuring the tip of him is slotted into her sodden slit. 

“They say missionary is for married people, but I like to look my witch in the eyes, see her fall apart as I cum inside her.” She quivers around him as he says this.

Why does she wish that he meant her, that she’s his witch? He’s Draco Fucking Malfoy! Is it their magical connection? Is it their emotional attachment? She doesn’t want to be his mistress, but would she really want him to leave his wife and child for her? 

Hermione loses her train of thought as he enters her like he had the very first time. Slowly, gently forging his way into her warm embrace. At this moment, she felt like his only witch. He leans down to suck on her nipple as he’s fully seated inside her, not moving. She bucks into him as pleasure-pain shoots from her chest to her core. He moans around her breast, licking it, soothing it.

Was any of this fair? That they both couldn’t move on and yet now he was going to be a father to a child he created only at the behest of his family? 

He hitches her thigh higher around him, so her heel presses into his arse cheek. His cock glides along her front wall, in and out, and it’s too much sensation, too delicious. She doesn’t know where she begins and he ends as he’s so deep within her, her muscles clinging to him. Desperation takes over his face as his hips stutter in their rhythm. 

Draco can’t hold out much longer before he explodes, her given name a whisper on his lips. A smaller orgasm sends her reeling as he pulses inside her, spreading his seed, his claim. She welcomes his weight as he remains on top of her, spent. His cock doesn’t soften for what feels like a while as it finally slips from her sated pussy.

He rolls onto his back beside her. Their fingers brush, but neither makes a move to hold hands. There’s a silent tension. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Rage builds in her as quickly as her orgasms had. “What?” she seethes, turning her head toward him. 

His hands are now covering his face. He’s ashamed. All of it was empty words and sentiment. Just for sex, pleasure, fucking. 

“I shouldn’t have cum inside you… It voids my marriage contract.”

Wordlessly she summons her wand and climbs on top of him with the sheet wrapped around her like a toga. Her knees dig into his forearms as she points her wand at him. Hermione feels like Medusa, powerful, scorned, and fierce.

He doesn’t glare at her, it just looks as though he’s memorizing her every cell, movement, breath. His silver eyes are dissecting her like scalpels.

“Let me get this straight,” she begins as though she’s lecturing a student. “You came back for me knowing that it would void your contract?” 

His brow furrows. “That’s not what I said. I said cumming inside you voided it.”

Her wand presses to the hollow of his throat. “And why did you do that? You could have pulled out, you could have let me suck you off, you could have painted my breasts with cum and your wife would have been none the wiser.”

“I wasn’t going to… I was going to pull out, but this nagging in my head, that primal part urged me to make you mine again. I meant it, Hermione. I meant that you’re the only one who has felt right even though what we did before and now is wrong in the eyes of our worlds back then and again now. It never felt wrong to me even though I know I don’t deserve you, but you don’t deserve to be unhappy. I want you to be happy and I always thought you’d be able to move on and be happy with someone else after me. But you’re not.”

She allows him to sit up, releasing his arms. He cups her face with his hands and she wants to believe him. Why had he been so resistant to talking earlier?

As if he can read her mind, he explains, “I pushed you away from me. No matter how much it hurt me to hurt you in return with my words and actions, I needed you to be okay without me. And then, when I realized you wouldn’t be happy with anyone else, that you’d driven Weasley away… I couldn’t leave. I’m a fucking prick sometimes, Hermione. I’m spiteful and say things out of anger. I’m not perfect.”

Draco’s expression is pleading, it’s the most humble she’s ever seen him. “I’m not perfect either, Draco. Frankly, I don’t care if you feel you don’t deserve me. I’m not a saint. I’ve hurt people. Maybe not with unforgivable curses, but I’ve done it. And now, we’ve hurt your wife, your family, your unborn child…”

He shakes his head. “You haven’t done anything wrong in this, Hermione. I cheated. And I know it doesn’t make it any better, but this all started when I tried to help you. I ended up binding us for life somehow. I’m not sure yet, but it’s clear that we have to talk to my mother.”

“Your mother?” Hermione asks incredulously. “But why would you want your family to find out?”

He runs a hand through his messy platinum hair. “They’ll find out soon enough, but my mother is the only one who’d know why this happened when I treated you for the  _ cruciatus  _ tremors.”

“Very well, then. When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “As in hours from now?”

Draco nods apologetically. She crosses her arms over her chest, indignant and he pulls her into a hug.

“Please, Hermione? Astoria visits with her family on Sunday mornings, it’s usually a long brunch followed by afternoon tea. My mother is usually alone in the gardens and, with Father in prison, no one disturbs her there.”

Hermione sighs. “Fine, then. I just don’t know what would be appropriate to wear to meet your mother.” She glances at her closet in worry.

“Since when does Hermione Granger not have an answer?” he teases, poking her in the ribs. She bats his hands away, but her pout breaks into a smile and laughter.

“You’re a witch, aren’t you? You could transfigure something you already own.” 

A spark flares in her eyes as she starts waving her wand at her clothes. Draco watches her disappear into the walk-in closet and reappear in a new outfit. It’s a lavender jumpsuit with flared, cropped legs with a high neck under a white linen jacket with gray pinstripes. His eyes rake over her in appraisal.

“Conservative yet modern,” he muses. She smiles triumphantly and goes back into the closet to change into sleepwear. 

Her tiny shorts and tank top make him inwardly groan as she sashays back to the bed. Astoria never wears anything so tempting yet casual to bed. Shaking his head clear of his wife, Draco curls his larger frame around hers and pulls the covers over them.

“I think my muscles are liquid,” she murmurs sleepily. He kisses her temple before her breathing slows into a deep sleep. 

***

“I’m doing research, you see, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione explains. It’s the cover story she had come up with in the wee hours of the morning. “Looking into alternative ways to heal damage from the cruciatus curse. It’s both a curiosity and a passion project of mine.”

Draco hadn’t wanted to lie to his mother, but Hermione thought it better to conceal the truth for discretion. If they have to convince her, the truth will come out, but she’d rather not out him just yet to his family.

“I see,” Narcissa Malfoy said solemnly, stirring her tea. The older witch had aged gracefully despite her deteriorating health and wore bright yet elegant magenta robes. “And my Draco told you about my experience with healing?”

“Yes, exactly. I was referred to him by a mutual acquaintance.”

“And who might that be, dear?” Hermione feels unnerved by Mrs. Malfoy’s dubiousness about the couple’s connection, knowing their history intimately.

Draco intervenes swiftly, “Hannah Abbott, Mother. She was a Hufflepuff in our year.” “Doesn’t she oversee the Leaky Cauldron?” 

Hermione realizes now what a mistake it was to go up against another Slytherin. Narcissa seems more sly and cunning than her husband. They couldn’t keep up the ruse for much longer.

“Yes, she is the landlady of the Leaky, but she has healing aspirations. She told me so in our eighth year,” Draco says smoothly.

Mrs. Malfoy appears to accept this. “What would you like to know exactly, dear?”

Hermione takes a breath before answering. “If I may be so blunt. How exactly did you heal your son? He’s told me that you’d healed him multiple times after… cursing incidents."

The blonde witch’s mouth turns up into a feminine version of her son’s smirk. “They were punishments dear,” she corrects Hermione and gives a sorrowful look to Draco. “The healing magic is a combination of legilimency and bonding magic. There must be a bond established with the cursed victim. I already have a parental bond with Draco, so while it’s not easy magic, my love for him encourages the healing process, calming the spasms.”

Hermione absorbs every word. “Is there a spell associated with this kind of magic?”

Narcissa shakes her head. “It’s instinctual magic, an unspoken one. The healer is essentially tethering their magic to the cursed, siphoning small amounts of magic to them.”

“Do you think--” Hermione’s throat feels dry, so she takes a small sip of tea. “Do you think this could be applicable in the healing practice?”

“I’m not a healer, my dear. I only learned what was passed down from my lineage. It’s quite possible that it’s a Black family ability that others may not possess. I’ve not heard of anyone trying this sort of magic outside of my family tree. A healer’s bond may not be strong enough with their patient to attempt this magic. An emotional connection, an attachment needs to be forged.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Draco’s fingers twitch in his lap. She senses that he wants to grab her hand. His mother seems concerned about what she’s telling them, glancing between them as if trying to add everything up.

“Would it have to be a pre-existing bond? Or could one be forged during the healing?” Draco asks, an intense expression lining his face. 

Narcissa stares at him for what seems like an eternity. The elder witch breaks their gaze without answering and sets her teacup down. Her hands are folded primly in her lap as she speaks again.

“You healed her, my dragon? After my sister…” Her tone isn’t accusatory, more sad than anything.

Draco looks down as if in shame, his fists clenched. It’s his same posture from the night before, before he’d admitted everything to Hermione. Their deceit is exposed, but not in the manner they expected.

She gasps as Draco takes her hand in his, his grip now loosened, his expression softer, wistful. He’s tender now that the truth has been spoken.

“Yes, I healed her and we’re bonded. I tried to stay away from her; I thought she’d be happier without me…. Hermione finally reached out to me last night saying she couldn’t be happy with anyone else.” He’s gazing at her like one would gaze at the reflection in the Mirror of Erised.

“I voided the marriage contract, Mum. I couldn’t help it…” Hermione squeezes his hand in return for his support.

His mother’s fingers are pressed against her mouth at the revelation, but she’s not disappointed or angry. Narcissa is upset that her son lost so much time with his bonded witch.

“I knew you weren’t completely happy, son, but I never thought… I’m so sorry I pushed you for an heir. If only I’d known--”

“Mother, are you alright?” Draco exclaims as she gasps loudly for air.

“I’m fine, Draco, but the bond… it shouldn’t have allowed you to procreate with another witch. That’s how most non-familial bonds work.”

“What?” Hermione can’t help but burst out.

Draco’s brow furrows. “How can she be…” His eyes bulge out. “But she would have voided the contract--”

“I haven’t,” a cool voice interrupts from behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

Astoria Malfoy walks out from behind a pillar. She isn’t showing much yet despite her frail frame. Red anger blooms on her face.

“Then explain whose baby that is, then. Because apparently, it’s not mine,” Draco seethes. 

Astoria grimaces. “How were you so foolish to be bonded to  _ her _ and not know it, Draco?”

“That’s none of your business now. Tell me whose baby you’re carrying.”

“It’s the Malfoy heir,” she gingerly caresses her small bump with a smile. 

“Impossible,” Draco stands forcefully.

“Unless…” Hermione says, bile rising in her throat. “She procreated with another Malfoy.”

Draco gapes at her and this turns to his mother who is equally appalled. The only other Malfoy was Lucius in Azkaban. 

“You fucked my father!” Draco roars.

Astoria straightened up, aiming a hateful glare at the three people in front of her. “You two were so desperate for an heir. I went to Lucius for help… And he did.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Draco gripes. 

“She’s right,” Narcissa sighs. “We put a lot of pressure on Astoria, chiefly me. But that does not excuse you sleeping with my husband and cheating on yours.”

“Draco, do you know what this means?” Hermione asks, her skin tingling with hopefulness. 

The green hasn’t completely dissolved from his face, but he turns to her in response. “You’re free, Draco. We’re free to be together. If you want, of course.”

_ Girl, I was it, look past the sweat  
_ __ A better love deserving of  
_ Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat  
_ __ No, no, no, you know it will always just be me

Hermione is dizzy from the turn of events, but Draco sweeps her up into his arms with a flourish and a swoon-worthy kiss. Before he initiates a full snog, a throat clears. His mother is looking at them proudly and admonishingly. Draco fidgets sheepishly, Hermione flushing at their display.

“Come along, Astoria. You should be resting.” The pregnant witch looks bewildered at her mother-in-law’s comment. “Don’t worry dear, we’ll get all the contracts sorted out as they should be.”

Mrs. Malfoy winks over her shoulder at Hermione and Draco. “Does that mean divorce for you?” Hermione prods, poking a button on his shirt.

He kisses her forehead. “I believe so, as well as for my mother and father. Truth be told, I’m surprised she didn’t do it sooner with him in prison.”

She’s surprised at how cavalier Draco is being about everything. “This is really what you want then? What you’ve wanted ever since we bonded?”

He smiles endearingly at her, his skin more luminescent than she’s seen it ever. This is the true, honest to Godric, Draco Malfoy without his parents or Voldemort meddling in his life, she realizes. Hermione returns his smile, a flutter in her stomach. 

“Yes, Hermione. I still can’t quite believe that we can be together, finally…. Can we apparate back to your flat?” he asks, nuzzling her ear. She shudders as he pulls her closer to him.

She whisks them away through space until they land in her bedroom. Draco lights a fire with the snap of his fingers. Hermione feels their magic reaching for one another, drawing them together.

“How presumptuous, Granger,” he teases her but starts sucking on the juncture of her neck where he’s slid her jacket off and her skin is now bare. “Bringing me back to your bedroom.”

“I thought it was Hermione now,” she huffs.

She startles a little as he grabs the globes of her arse, forcing her hips into his. “Cheeky, witch.” He chuckles at his own pun and rubs his confined cock into her stomach. 

“Give me a minute to freshen up,” she says after kissing him and successfully, albeit with difficulty, removing his hands from her bum. 

Hermione is partially in disbelief that she’s bonded with Draco: the man who’d tortured her with his absence for years and the boy who’d bullied her before that. She knows her friends have long given up on setting her up with another wizard, though no one knows what happened, they probably all think she’s still upset with Ron for breaking up with her.

Rinsing her face, Hermione’s mind is working.... She’s not even nervous to tell Harry and the Weasleys about Draco when his divorce becomes official. They will know their bond is special, that Draco saved her all those years ago and then she saved him from a loveless marriage. 

Absently, she wonders how the Malfoys will treat Astoria’s baby when it’s born. Technically, it would be had out of wedlock and the second born to Lucius Malfoy, which means that Draco’s children would still set the precedence for the inheritance. A bolt of unfamiliar desire to make that happen, to have Draco’s heir, overwhelms her as she unpins her unruly hair. Her fingers wrap around the hand of the comb and she stares at herself in the mirror. She smiles at her reflection and gives up taming her hair.

Hermione’s unsurprised to see Draco Malfoy stretched out on her bed, completely naked and stroking his cock lazily. His eyes follow her form as she makes her way to him. His eyes catch the glimmer of something in her hand. 

“I thought it would be only fitting for our official coupling for it to start as our first time did,” she whispers and slides the magical comb he’d given her into his hand. Draco smirks, a spark in his silver eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! I'm happy to be posting this all at once instead of chapter by chapter.


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